


Echoes of an Old Sin

by In_Much_Stress



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, I Don't Even Know, I Give You No Context Whatsoever, Light Angst, M/M, No Beta We Die Like Endermen, Random & Short, Technoblade And The Blood God Are Different Entities, heavily inspired by that one God of War scene, screeching our lungs out, you know the one that one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27980874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Much_Stress/pseuds/In_Much_Stress
Summary: Technoblade confronts The Blood God.OR: The Author created a random AU inspired by God of War and she gives y'all zero context on what's happening.KEEP IN MIND that this was made for us, shippers, and us only and you should not show this to either CC unless given clear and enthusiastic consent. Also, if you're gonna waste your time telling me to stop, I want you to think for a second and go find something to do with your life, because you ain't righteous and you sure ain't protecting anyone, Anti.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Dave | Technoblade
Comments: 6
Kudos: 227





	Echoes of an Old Sin

Technoblade blinks with a heavy sigh, opening the door with a heavier heart. He enters the room with solemn steps, not stopping once as he makes his way to the secret door hidden under his bed. Pushing the bed away, he kneels in front of his biggest secret for the first time in years.

His hands tremble when they touch the handle and he takes a deep breath, trying to will himself to it.

"Look at you." The voice, his voice, snaps him out of his jumbled thoughts. "Such a cowardly little pig."

When Techno turns to look at whoever stands behind him, he finds himself. He stands tall in the middle of the room, the hollow eyes of the pig skull covering half of his face brimming with mockery and rage. His crown shines under the wavering lights of candles like it had been polished a thousand times for a thousand days, each jewel brighter than the other. His long hair cascades down freely, looking almost like red waterfalls in the semi-light. That is a better, stronger version of himself. A mere illusion created by the Blood God to scorn him.

"Go away."

Techno takes another breath, finally opening the door he'd been ignoring for half an eternity. His old iron sword greets him almost as mockingly as the god standing behind him, as if taunting him for returning to it after everything. The last connection with his past life, the one he has never been able to let go. The weight is familiar in his hands, his grip adjusting to the handle quickly, the blade shines his reflection back to him once he unsheathes it.

After the deal, he had only used diamond tools, specially swords as nothing pleased the god more than the contrast between the once considered holy blue of diamonds and the red of the opponent's blood. Diamond blades are perfect and pure, worthy of gods, even corrupted ones like the Blood God. Iron blades are flawed, they need to be forged and repaired through fire and effort, much like humanity; they're the blades of mortals. Technoblade knows the implications of brandishing iron.

"If you leave me, if you break our bond, everything you have will be taken away. Are you that willing to let go of it all, of being reduced to a simple mortal, for that man?" The voice is supposed to be Technoblade's, but it's so twisted with rage and scorn it sounds distinctively the Blood God's.

"You gave me many, many things. Power, strength, immortality, refuge, willpower... All things a coward like me wants." Technoblade agrees, getting up with the iron sword strapped to his hip, the diamond blade now resting in its place. "But this coward has finally gotten what he needed, and it was thanks to Dream."

"And what did the coward need?"

"Courage to face his demons."

"You mean me?"

"No. Myself."

Technoblade approaches the distorted and perfect image of himself, taking off his gloves so his tainted flesh could be seen. His hands will never lose the red markings of the blood they spilled, a constant reminder of his sins, and he had avoided looking at them for long enough. It’s time for him to face his past once for all, to return to the mortality he so desperately ran away from.

He owns Dream that much.

“Returning to mortality will bring forth every sin and every tragedy. I will not take you back, you shall be doomed to a fate full of the same suffering you hid from in me.”

“It is time for me to shoulder all of it. I am thankful for what you did to me, but you are permanent, I am not. The flame within me cannot continue burning only in rage.”

“And if it extinguishes?”

It is a possibility, a possibility that has been eating at Technoblade’s guts since he first stepped in that room. Even a mortal, he is powerful, a master of a fickle type of magic very few can use, and even fewer can control. The rage had helped him control it, and before it the fear. But now, now he has nothing to help him guide his power but his relationship with a certain blonde, meaning it all relies on more than himself. It’s even less stable than the fire of wrath, that flame of love; it can consume him.

Techno is afraid. Part of him wants to let go of the iron and return to the safety of serving the Blood God, to grip the diamond blade and wear its perfection and ruin like armor, away from the roughness and hardship of mortality.

“Then so be it.” He answers instead, taking off his mask, a perfect copy of the Blood God’s, exposing his eyes, crimson like his past, to the world once more.

Technoblade walks past the image of god, seeking for penitence in his own terms.


End file.
